The Millennium Long Barrier
by ikillu100times
Summary: Until less than a century ago, France never needed to learn English, and has refused to up until now. Unfortunately, he's required to know English as a leading UN member, so he turns to England and Canada to help keep his secret safe. But when Germany decides that he will be giving his presentation in London, will he be able to learn enough English in time?
1. Chapter 1

**I've been meaning to upload this from the kink meme for ****_ages, _****but I kept forgetting or other stuff came up -_- But, better late than never, I guess.**

**Couple of notes: First off, while I wouldn't say my French is completely terrible, it's the kind that was learnt in a classroom and not by conversation. So if it doesn't sound very natural, please tell me! My Russian ****_is _****terrible, though, to the point where I was thinking of replacing it with Croatian and hoping nobody notices because I couldn't figure out which word goes where. Sorry if the translator messed up!**

**Also, all translations are placed within the story, since there's so much of it.**

* * *

"So yeah, I couldn't think of a name for this robot, so how about everyone thinks up a name overnight and tomorrow we can..."

"A giant robot will do anything _but_ help the economic crisis, you stupid Yankee!"

As America laughed and moved on, France bit back a yawn. These meetings were bad enough when they were in his own country, but at least he had the saving grace of knowing what was going on! He nudged England, who was sitting beside him, also desperately fighting the need to sleep.

"Angleterre?"

England was off in his own little world, so France poked him again. And again. Soon after he lost count, England turned to look at him, boredom and irritation etched onto his face, "Quoi?" (What?)

"Qu'at-il dit?" (What did he say?)

England looked back at America, trying to see what his notes were before he packed them away, while Canada prepared his presentation. France smirked; apparently England hadn't been listening either. Maybe he wasn't one to talk, but at least he had an excuse!

England turned back to him and whispered, "Même merde que le mois dernier." (Same shit as last month.)

Last month? France had been spacing out during that meeting as well, at least while America was talking. By the time he started paying attention again; England and America were already at each other's throats. He shrugged his shoulders; "Je ne me souviens pas de la dernière réunion." (I don't remember the last meeting.)

England rolled his eyes at the Frenchman and turned back around. "Donc, apprendre l'anglais, frog-face." (Then learn English.)

In other words, _I don't feel like translating for you. _France sighed; America was only the second person to come up today as well! Even if he wouldn't say anything, it would be nice to at least know what was going on. He leaned back on his chair, annoyed at the Brit's lack of help.

Or, it might be the fact that yes, he _should _learn English, and had been putting it off for centuries that annoyed him more. It wasn't that he couldn't learn other languages, it was just... bad blood? He couldn't will himself to do it? He wasn't really sure why.

Whatever the reason was, English was the only official language of the UN that France hadn't learnt. If they were somewhere like Moscow or Madrid, it wouldn't matter, since they would speak that country's main language. But somewhere like London or New York, which was where they were now... well, he had to make sure to bring extra paper so England could write notes for him.

"Thank you America; I mean Canada," said Germany, gaining France's attention. Considering what he heard and Canada's expression, it seemed he had been mistaken for his loud-mouthed brother. Again.

"We'll now have an hour lunch break. Don't be late!"

Wait, he's heard of lunch before! Lunch... lunch... Ah! Déjeuner! "Angleterre, dépêche-toi!" (England, hurry up!) He started pulling the Englishman's sleeve, who was packing away his files.

"Une minute!" (One minute!) England replied crossly. France scowled and looked around impatiently, and noticed Canada looking at him exasperatedly. He wasn't too surprised; he was constantly promising Canada that he would learn English, but hadn't delivered so far.

He supposed that he was lucky that neither England nor Canada had mentioned his lack of English to anyone. They threatened to, especially England when France started testing his flirting skills, but he knew they wouldn't actually tell. After all, since all UN members were expected to know the main languages, England or Canada would have to spend half an hour every day with him until he could speak fluently.

In other words, they would have to try and get _France _to co-operate. A task both of them would prefer to avoid.

England put the last of his notes in, and was about to walk out the conference room with France, when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"Yo, Iggy! How ya doin'?"

France smirked at the low growl from England when America's voice rang out from the buzz of conversation. The Brit had been in a particularly bad mood since he arrived, so this promised to be interesting.

* * *

England in general had a low tolerance for America's antics, but he wouldn't be surprised if he found himself trying to break the man's nose today. His flight to New York had several delays due to his infamous weather patterns, and any attempts at dozing for a bit were interrupted by a certain Frenchman asking, "Pouve-toi traduire pour moi?" (Can you translate for me?) or, "Qu'est-ce que cela signifie?" (What does that mean?)

Seriously, why couldn't France just learn English?! England could understand why a few centuries back, when they were sworn enemies (if it wasn't for the Norman Conquest, he may not have learnt French either), but now that it was used so internationally, it was just causing both of them trouble.

But no, France wasn't the problem here. The problem was the obnoxious Septic Tank, who was resting half his weight on England's shoulders. He wriggled out of America's hold and muttered, "What do you want?"

"As grumpy as ever, huh, England?" laughed America. England turned away from him, hoping America would find someone else who would pay attention to him.

America continued with, "Can you do me a favour? I'm meant to talk to Russia and 'strengthen relations,'" America used finger quotes to show how he felt about the ordeal, "but he's being a douche and only talking in Russian."

"I thought you would have learnt it by now," England replied. What was he, the local translator here? He remembered during the Cold War how he and China always had to translate for the two superpowers, due to their utter refusal to learn each other's language.

However, once the Soviet fell, they both agreed to learn each other's languages as, in America's words, "A heroic symbol to represent our truce!"

Apparently America had yet to actually keep his end of the deal.

"It's not like I know nothing!" America crossed his arms defensively, "It's him; he never slows down for me, even when I ask him to in Russian!"

"I do slow down for him. If he wants to speak to me in Russian, he should learn the language better, da?" Russia spoke up from behind England, making the Brit yelp in surprise.

"I have been learning! It's just... there're loads of really annoying gender agreements and... and those stupid declension things-"

"Bloody hell, America, it's been twenty years! Can't you look away from your video games for just a few months?" England scolded him.

"I learnt your language so you can learn mine," said Russia, smiling a bit too sweetly for England's taste, "Англия, Может я его ударил?" (England, may I hit him?)

"Нет!" (No!) England replied hastily. He really did _not _need these two to be fighting today!

"Hm? England, what did he ask?" America demanded, trying to piece together that whatever Russia asked was about him.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing, don't worry about-"

"I wanted to know if I can hit you, because you are annoying," Russia answered, "But I suppose it can wait."

"Oh you wanna hit me, do ya, you com- you _ex_-commie bastard?!" America challenged, trying to move England out of the way, as he was standing between the two powers, "Bring it!"

* * *

**The UN languages are as follows: English, Arabic, French, Chinese (Doesn't state which one though), Russian and Spanish. The UN rules mean that France ****_could _****ask questions or give presentations in French while in the USA if he wanted to, but then the inevitable question of why the hell isn't he using English will come up.**

**'Septic Tank' is Cockney rhyming slang for American (Septic Tank = Yank = American). Not the nicest description ever, but that's just how Brit's roll, I guess.**

**And yes, declensions. I'm fine with gender and all, but those declensions are such bitches you have no idea. Slavic languages in particular can have up to six or seven.**


	2. Chapter 2

**It just occurred to me that some people may not know where this idea comes from, so I'll explain here. In the manga, Himaruya made a note once that France actually to learn English due to thinking it inferior to French. Of course, this is easier to show when all the characters are speaking Japanese instead of English, so this was simply left out. The UN languages, though, is just my weird addition.**

* * *

France sighed to himself, waiting for England to leave America alone already. He was well aware that leaving America and Russia alone together was never a good idea, but he figured that if he and England weren't around when a fight broke out, then they couldn't be to blame, no?

Clearly England wasn't doing very well at stopping the two, as they were busy sizing each other up, while England tried to prevent the two from taking it any further.

Course, he didn't understand what was going on, other than that Russia wanted to punch America, which was probably why he felt so impatient. While he was fine with occasionally no having much attention, he didn't enjoy being left out, especially when he knew that he had no-one to blame but himself.

He was distracted from his thoughts when America threw the first punch. Russia managed to dodge, but the look in his eyes showed that there was no chance of peace now.

Well, at least England had finally moved out from between the two. France would have been more relieved, but now, the Brit was livid. He grabbed France's wrist roughly and walked out of the meeting room; "Allons-y." (Let's go.)

"Aïe, Ok, Angleterre! Je vais!" (Ow, okay England! I'm going!) France winced from the hard grip on his wrist, Fortunately, England listened and let go of him, letting France catch up by him.

"Je le crois pas!" (I don't believe it!) England shouted once France was walking next to him. "Sérieusement, ils peuvent pas avoir _une _conversation ensemble!" (Seriously, they cannot have _one_ conversation together!)

"Parfois, ils peuvent, s'ils parlent pas en anglais ou en russe," (Sometimes they can, if they're not speaking English or Russian) France replied, trying to calm him down a little. He could see where England was coming from, though, since whenever America and Russia were in a meeting that required one of those languages, they would refuse to co-operate. Eventually, either America would find England or Russia would find China.

Ah... That was why England had been so determined to sit out of America's sight.

"Ouais..." (Yeah...) England seemed to have calmed down a bit, though he was still clearly irritated. He walked quickly down the hall, leaving the building.

"Où tu vas?" (Where are you going?)

"McDonald's. Amérique va oublier." (America will forget.)

France had to fight the urge to tease England about buying America food for him, hard as it was. After all, he still needed England around after the meeting to help him round the city.

"Uh, France?" a quiet voice behind them spoke. France's breath hitched; did this person expect him to speak English? He turned round...

And sighed with relief; it was Canada.

"Bonjour, Matthieu!" France answered, kissing his ex-colony on the cheeks more times than Canada could keep track of.

"Is something wrong, Matthew?" asked England, slowly. France smile froze, already noticing what they were doing.

"Yeah, um... France?" Right, they were playing the 'Speak English or we'll scold you on how lazy and disorganized you are,' game: "_Where_ is America?"

Okay, he could do this, "Amérique... uh, America... is in..." Ugh, he was so close! "...the, uh..."

"The meeting room," Canada finished for him. France relaxed; that meant he had done well enough. Unfortunately, the Canadian wasn't finished; "Where are _you_ and England _going_?"

At least he said it slowly, so France could pick it up, "Uhh... we go-"

"We are going," England corrected.

"Même chose," (Same thing) France shot back, "We are going to McDonald's."

"Très bien," (Very good.) Canada praised. He ignored England's comment of 'If he was seven.' "Why?"

...Ah. He had no idea how to say, 'because England wants to buy some food for America since the guy's busy trying to break Russia's nose and I'm going with him because I need someone to help me round the city and he's more helpful than you.' Guess he needed to make it up.

"We go- _are going," _he corrected himself before England could, "fooding!"

Silence. Then a, "...Pardon?" from Canada.

"We are going fooding!" France repeated. Canada still looked confused; maybe they didn't say 'fooding' in North America? Before he could explain to Canada, though, he heard a loud snickering behind him.

It was England, who was desperately trying to hold in his laughter and looking anywhere but at France. Now France was getting annoyed; what had he done wrong? He never laughed at England when he got the gender wrong in French (much)!

England tried to calm down, and looked at France with his frustrated pout. However, that just made him burst out into laughter completely. When France turned to Canada, he found that he was giggling softly too.

"Quoi?! Qu'ai-je fait de mal?!" (What? What have I done wrong?!)

"You... you..." England tried to explain between laughs, forgetting to translate to French, "Fooding is... is not..."

"Fooding est pas un mot en anglais, France. Food est, mais pas fooding," (Fooding is not a word in English, France. Food is, but not fooding) Canada spoke in for England, who went into another fit of laughter after hearing him. France kind of preferred when he was in a sour mood.

Ignoring his old rival, France made sure to remember this. He remembered something similar happening before, when he mentioned to England that his place could do with a 'relooking.'

England hadn't let that go for months. This time probably wouldn't be much different.

* * *

**Part of the kink meme request asked for 'Franglais.' These are words which are a mix of French and English, such as, well, 'Franglais' :D Although, in French it generally means words borrowed from English, even though the original meaning can be lost (e.g. 'du footing' means jogging).**

**'Fooding' means to try a new type of cuisine (if you can call Mcdonald's cuisine) and 'relooking' means a redesign.**

**Again, any corrections are appreciated! Thank you for reading so far!**


	3. Chapter 3

Having nothing better to do, Canada decided to go with his two former colonists to McDonald's. After all, he didn't particularly mind the taste (much to France's chagrin) and if he was honest, it was a hell of a lot of fun to annoy France by speaking English. Naturally, England was perfectly willing to play along.

"So, whose turn is it after lunch?" he asked England, making sure France was well within earshot.

"I think Romano's next, unless a miracle happens and Italy's back on time. Then... one of the Nordics, but I'm not sure which one."

"Ah, thanks. But I was thinking..."

"Hm?"

"Maybe you should sit next to me and, you know, avoid Monsieur I-can't-be-bothered-to-make-life-easier-for-everyo ne-by-learning-one-extra-language."

England chuckled in appreciation, and Canada noticed France's shoulders stiffen slightly in front of them. He must have realised they were poking fun at him. Good. The sooner he picked up a Rosetta Stone or whatever, the better, as far as he was concerned.

France had told him several times that he was over reacting, but he just couldn't understand why the nation refused to learn English! He could kinda see why back when England was the only Anglophone he needed to talk to, but now it wasn't just England who had English as his main language. And those were allies anyway, so what was the point?!

He once asked England about it, and England explained to him that language generally meant more to the country that it originated from than other speakers. It was something that belonged to them, and learning another country's language willingly was thought of as a sign of respect. So France spent centuries avoiding English out of spite, and the only reason those two could communicate at all was because the Norman Conquest had meant England learnt French out of necessity.

On the other hand, maybe it was just old countries being old.

As they entered the restaurant, France made it very clear that he wouldn't be taking one bite out of the food served. England agreed, so they decided between themselves to find another place after getting America's meal. As usual, they didn't let Canada get a word in edgeways. He sighed, doing his best to keep Kinajimo from getting out of his arms and towards the smell of food.

* * *

"C'est horrible!" (This is horrible!) exclaimed France, holding his baguette at arms length. After buying America's food, the trio found one of the few Pret a Mangers that had made their way to New York. Since it was a title that France could understand, he insisted that they go there.

Clearly he wasn't aware it was actually a British food chain.

"Comment est-ce une baguette?!" (How is this a baguette?!) continued France, looking at the piece of bread with clear disgust. As he started on his detailed critique, England forced himself not to rebuke, since they were in public and his boss had warned him several times not to get in trouble on foreign soil. Canada just ignored the two and focused on his sandwich.

"France."

Said nation jumped at the gruff voice behind him, which thankfully shut him up. Turning round, he saw Germany standing behind him, with his usual business pose. France gave a curt nod, which Germany returned before sitting down in the spare seat next to England. The Brit couldn't help but feel a little put off at the lack of any greeting, although that was often the case when Germany wanted to get something over and done with. Well, at least he wouldn't have to get involved with awkward business talk for once-

"I need to speak with you about the meeting in London in two months."

Oh, for fucks sake. English. Of _course._

On cue, France turned to him expectantly, silently demanding the response. England nodded his head and mouthed a 'yes.'

"Ah, yes! Bien sûr! Qu'est-ce que c'est?" (Of course! What is it?) replied France. England had to admit, France was pretty good at acting like he knew what was going on. Not that it was surprising; he'd had ages to learn how to convince someone you could speak another language whilst trying to get them to speak another anyway, like France was doing now.

"In English, please. You know it's customary to speak the host's language when applicable."

Ugh, France was bound to make a mistake here. England decided to step in, since he _really_ didn't want that extra stress of teaching France English (of course that was it; any other reason was simply preposterous). "America's not here, does it really matter?"

Germany turned to him confused, "Yes he is, he's right there."

"I'm Canada!"

"Huh?" Germany looked even more confused.

"Yes, that's Canada," confirmed England, "See? There's his annoying bear down there stealing his fruit salad- ow! Stop scratching me, I didn't take your damn food this time!"

Canada sighed exasperatedly and ducked down to try and grab the remnants of his dessert. Seeing the polar bear hidden under the table, Germany finally understood his mistake, "Oh, my apologies, Canada... um, well."

He took advantage of the nation's distracted state and turned back to France, "I still feel it is best to speak in English, in any case."

Well, that was annoying. England turned back to France and gave two thumbs up, using the motions that they had practised decades ago.

"OK, I can do that," said France, trying to keep as much of his focus on Germany as possible.

"Good," Germany nodded, "So, I've been looking at the schedule, and I don't think there is going to be enough time to get to your presentation during the meeting in France." He paused, gauging France's response.

England cocked his head to the side, and France responded "Uh... why?"

"Well, considering the usual length of South Korea's speeches, we probably won't have enough time to get to yours after. So, we'll have to move your presentation to the meeting in London."

England froze, unsure of what cue to give France. He could tell him to say no, but that would require an explanation why, which France couldn't give. But if France said yes, it would be even worse...

"Is that OK?" asked Germany, eyes narrowing at France's distracted look.

"Oh, yes! It is OK!" replied France cheerfully. England groaned inwardly while Canada, who had been listening to the conversation after failing to get his fruit salad back, dropped his head onto the table. Ugh, this was bad...

"Good, that's all," Germany stiffly nodded again and got up from his seat, "Make sure you're on time." And with that, he walked away.

"Such a golden ray of sunshine," muttered England, making Canada choke on his drink from scoffing.

Despite not having said anything, England had enough experience with America to know what the reaction was about. He glared at his former colony, "You're meant to be the polite one." Canada stuck his tongue out immaturely, but he was grinning. Even though he was more polite than France and America, he completely understood why they teased England so much.

"Hé! En français, s'il vous plaît!" (Hey! In French, please!) France reminded the two Anglophones, "Sommes-nous d'accord maintenant?" (Are we okay now?)

"Oh... heh, non," replied Canada with a nervous laugh.

"Hein? Pourquoi pas?" (Huh? Why not?)

"_Parce que…_" (Because…) England explained more aggressively, "Tu as accepté de montrer ta présentation à Londres." (You agreed to show your presentation in London.)

"Q-Quoi?!" (W-What?!) H-He agreed to show his… oh God, he couldn't do that! That would mean doing the presentation in English and... "Oh, merde, merde, merde..." (Oh shit, shit, shit...)

France was clearly out of it, muttering to himself and pulling at his collar. England and Canada looked at each other uncertainly, neither sure of what to do. It was near impossible to get France to listen in this state and they only had 10 minutes before they were meant to be back from their lunch break.

Wordlessly, Canada stood up and tugged at France's arm, attempting to get him to stand up. England also stood up and tried to help him, but there was no moving the nation. Finally, Canada grew impatient and simply threw France over his shoulder. Hopefully, he would snap out of his panic before they reached the meeting room.

* * *

**Ah, Pret a Manger... it's everywhere in Britain, but there's about 30 shops in New York, apparently. To be fair, it's not that bad at all,********but this is France. God knows what he considers the perfect baguette to be.**

**I really like the idea of England having cues for about 10 phrases France knows which help him get through conversations in English. It wouldn't be very effective for giving explanations, but I think everyone's had conversations where they've only needed to say 'yes' over and over :P**

**And yeah, I have a head canon that Kumajiro will scratch anyone who tries to take his food; something that Iggy found out back when Canada was his colony. Also, that he will eat practically anything.**

**Including England's food. XD**

**Well, that should be all for now. Thanks for reading, and if you can, please review and let me know how I'm doing!**


	4. Chapter 4

Luckily, as Canada had hoped, France managed to sort himself out before they arrived at the meeting room, and slid off his shoulder just before they entered the building. However, it was clear that he still wasn't _well, _per say. His hands were clenched so tightly they were shaking, and he was still mumbling to himself, albeit quietly.

Canada noticed France was slowing down slightly, so he took hold of the nation's shoulder and tugged him forward slightly, which got France to speed up without a fight. To be honest, since he had to slow down to take France's weight better, they were already late anyway. England had gone on ahead because of his need to be on time for _everything, _but Canada supposed that the others would be suspicious if he was late too. He was never late, unlike himself and France.

Finally, after what felt like forever, they reached the meeting room. Just before Canada opened the door, France straightened up and prepared himself for when they walked in. How he was always able to act as if nothing was wrong so easily still confused Canada to this day, but he would only get a cryptic answer about love or determination or whatever France decided was the word of the day.

"Hey, you're back, Canadia! You are so dead, bro," yelled America, now with a plaster on his forehead, once Canada opened the meeting room door. Most of the nations ignored him, as usual, but some were staring bemusedly at him and France as they took their places.

"Why are you two late?" demanded Germany. Strangely, he was glaring at England, as if he was in charge of making sure they were punctual or something.

...Not that that was a _bad _assumption, although Canada knew that England hated it.

"S-Sorry Germany," replied Canada, "Um, France got distracted."

Cuba, who was sitting next to him, snorted and clapped a hand over his shoulder, "Putting all the blame on Francey-pants, huh? Good for you!" he whispered. Canada laughed meekly in response, really wishing that Cuba wouldn't put all his weight onto Canada like that.

Germany turned to France, who smirked back. "Ugh, forget it," he muttered, "Carry on, Romano."

"I know; you don't need to tell me what to do, potato bastard!"

Canada groaned. Why does he bother coming to these again?

* * *

France wasn't doing much better. He was having a hard time pretending that he was listening, while gauging England's mood with him, while thinking about how to get out of doing the meeting in London. Considering that Germany wanted him to speak in English while here, it would be better to call him later or talk about it during the EU Paris meeting, but still...

Whatever the case, I seemed that England was in a better mood than earlier, which was something. He really needed someone to help him out with this, and England was his best bet. Canada was often ignored, and Spain and Prussia would constantly tease him by speaking in English to him, which kind of ruined the point.

Besides, England had more to lose if France was caught out.

"Hey, bastard! France!" shouted Romano, throwing an eraser at the nation, "You mind paying attention?!"

France, caught off guard, forgot where he was for an instant and stared at Romano blankly. What happened? Did he do something wrong? Well, of course he did, there was an eraser stuck in his hair, but...

Romano's glare melted into confusion at France's unresponsiveness. In fact, several nations were waiting for a response. England quickly pinched France's leg under the table, getting his attention. He then ducked his head down as if he was ashamed.

"O-Oh! Sorry, _Cheri,"_ said France, getting a clearer head. Yes, he definitely needed to think later; getting distracted now could be potentially risky.

Romano still looked slightly puzzled and cocked his head in a way that Spain could be heard cooing at. France winked at him, which seemed to snap him out of it. "F-Fucking weirdo," he muttered, and went back to his presentation.

England also looked annoyed at him and whispered, "Écoutes-lui! Tu peux penser plus tard." (Listen to him! You can think later.) Ah. So that was the problem; he looked too distracted. Right, enough thinking, as England said. Just focus on the meeting.

* * *

These world conferences always felt twice as long when he had to take two sets of notes, England felt. Sure, he could just translate after the meeting was over, but that would mean going to France's room and that never happened unless he was drunk.

At least it was over. And at least he didn't fall asleep like he sometimes did. Norway had been after Romano, and his voice had an almost hypnotizing quality that always made England want to put his head on the desk and forget that he was a nation for just a few moments. In fact, he was rather proud of himself that he had been able to write adequate notes on Norway's environmental plan _and _translate a second copy in French.

France definitely owed him for this.

"Meeting adjourned," called out Germany and slowly, the nations split into their usual groups and left. Of course, France stuck with England.

"Hey, British dude! Thanks for the Mackey D's again!" yelled America, who had somehow managed to drag Canada away from Cuba and was heading to the two Europeans with him. Even though America was often with them, none of them were sure whether he knew of France's lack of English. He had never mentioned it, and was perfectly fine switching to French or Spanish if told to (though France usually went with Spanish, since America very rarely bothered with a French accent).

Given his big mouth, none of them had told him anyway, just in case.

"Yeah, well, I just didn't want you complaining to me that you were hungry the entire time."

"But you weren't sitting anywhere near him, England."

"...Shut up, Canada."

America laughed, and seemed to forget his own strength as he clapped England round the back, "You know you love me really in that old unicorn loving heart of yours! Come on, I wanna McFlurry." England rubbed his likely bruised back with a scowl, but followed the loud nation nonetheless.

"Wait."

Oh for God's sake, Germany _again?! _Now what?

He turned to the European power, who seemed to be focusing mostly on France. Well, now he had to stay, didn't he? He waved America and Canada away, mouthing, "We'll catch up."

"All four of you."

Oh? Canada turned back confused, and America pointed at himself with a questioning look. Germany nodded, so he shrugged and leant against the table.

England attempted to stand to the side of Germany so that he could use the usual motions, but Germany stepped back as he did so. England tried again, and Germany glared at him. Shit, did he know something was up? France _was _acting pretty weird when Romano shouted at him.

Well, no point worrying for now. He gave up and decided to try and move when Germany was done talking to him. Either that, or get Canada to move; Germany probably wouldn't notice him.

"France, do you mind explaining your behaviour during the meeting?"

Oh, so that was what it was. Easy then. "He was-" England started.

"I wasn't talking to you, England," interrupted Germany, "France?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Is everything all- Gott, _stop moving, _England! You too, America!"

"Hey, I'm over here!"

"Canada! Whatever!" Germany pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly stressing out, "France, why were you acting so strangely during the meeting?" he repeated slowly.

"Uh... Eh bien, je..." (Well, I...)

"_IN ENGLISH, FRANCE! _Ugh!" Germany gripped his hair forcefully, "You four are impossible!"

"Dude, I didn't do anything!"

"_Shut up!"_

England and France looked at each other nervously. They were really taking liberties here, but what else could they do? Maybe they could frustrate Germany to the point that he just gave up, but that could easily make life hell in the future.

Either way, this probably wouldn't turn out very well.

Germany finally managed to get his temper back down, though it was clear that if they tried any more funny business, he would probably explode.

"France," he tried one more time, "I'm only asking you one question; why have you been acting so strangely this afternoon? I saw... Canada carrying you back to the building and since then you've been more distracted than usual. Just explain why, _in English, _and you can go."

England stiffened. At this point, the only option he could think of was to run. However, he didn't feel like having his pride take a beating over _France's_ problem, of all people.

He noticed France look at him desperately, which Germany obviously saw too, if his eyes narrowing like that was anything to go by. Seeing no real way out of this, England shrugged and shook his head.

Panicking, France turned to Canada, who again, couldn't see any way out. He shook his head and mouthed, "Désolé," (Sorry) to him.

"So Italy was right," Germany finally spoke, "Vous ne parlez pas anglais, n'est pas?" (You don't speak English, do you?)

France didn't speak. Instead he sighed frustrated and avoided Germany's accusing eyes.

"Woah, seriously? You don't speak English?" asked America, getting off the table to join the others.

"Don't try and play dumb, America," warned Germany, now focusing on the younger nation.

"What? Hey, honest, I never knew," America put his hands up defensively, "I mean, I thought about it once or twice, but I didn't..."

"He would've needed others to help him hide something like this," Germany narrowed his eyes, "I think it's fair to say that you three were involved in that."

"Germany, I swear," said America, more serious than usual, "I _never knew. _Right, guys?"

Germany raised an eyebrow and turned to the other Anglophones, but they both nodded. They knew better than to go against America's sense of justice. France still said nothing, mostly because he didn't understand what was going on anymore.

"Right, I'll believe America. However, you two..." England and Canada both nodded, knowing they incriminated themselves already. Germany cleared his throat and continued, "Well, it's clear that France will find it... difficult to present in London."

England breathed out slightly. Well, at least one good thing came out of this...

"So you two will help him with it. As punishment, of course."

What.

England paused and stared deadpan at Germany, "...You're bloody _joking."_

* * *

**I'm uploading this a little earlier this time because I'm off to France this evening (who'da thunk it?) and I won't have access to my computer for about a week. *sigh* Hopefully my French will get better, if nothing else.**_  
_

**I've realised, I'm so mean to Germany. He's like a supply teacher trying to deal with the rowdy group sitting at the back, but at least he's finally managed to squeeze the truth out of them. Only took him a few decades :P**


End file.
